


begin again

by sumaru



Series: team oikage two seventeen [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Final Haikyuu Quest, Alternate Universe - Olympics, Alternate Universe - Space, Complicated Relationships, Future Fic, Genderbending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-15 20:06:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11813277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sumaru/pseuds/sumaru
Summary: A collection of short oikage fics. It starts, as with all things, with a Taylor Swift prompt card.1.everything has changed- Future Fic2.long time coming- Future Fic3.you're not sorry- Gundam AU4.bad blood- FHQ AU5.better than revenge- GenderswapPlease see chapter notes for specific warnings.





	1. "everything has changed" - Future Fic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It is 6:47AM when Kageyama walks back into his bedroom and Oikawa is still asleep on Kageyama’s futon._
> 
> Future Fic.  
> I just want a bright and beautiful future for them. What can I say, I'm a romantic.

Kageyama wakes up at exactly 6AM in the morning.  
  
Kageyama wakes up. Kageyama stares at the low white ceiling of his bedroom. Kageyama gets up to brush his teeth. Kageyama stands in front of his closet and decides between the black shirt or the grey shirt. Kageyama makes a simple breakfast of rice and egg in his small kitchen.   
  
It is 6:47AM when Kageyama walks back into his bedroom and Oikawa is still asleep on Kageyama’s futon. The early summer sun is just cresting the Tokyo skyline and everything is awash in orange and gold. Oikawa is still sleeping on his futon. Yellow light falls softly around the mess of his brown hair. Faded blue cotton sheets,  _his sheets, Kageyama thinks, he had washed them only two days ago_ , tangle around Oikawa’s bare legs kicked out onto the now vacated space where Kageyama had been sleeping not that long ago. His nose is pressed into Kageyama’s pillow.  
  
It is 7:04AM by the time Kageyama sits down at his little kitchen table. It is 7:12AM by the time he feels like the empty space between his lungs and the cage of his ribs isn't coming completely undone by the way Oikawa smells like the white bar soap Kageyama keeps in his bathroom, the way he smells like Kageyama’s faded blue cotton sheets. The way he smells like summer even when it’s pouring rain.  
  
  
  
  
(“Awful,” Oikawa had said then, nose scrunched up. His mouth was doing that dramatic thing it does. “Terrible.” His eyes were looking straight ahead as he said it, like he could see right through that silver sheet of rain, see over the curve of the stadium dome. But Oikawa always looked Kageyama in the eye when he spoke to him, even at his worse, and for the first time, Kageyama feels at a loss as to what to do.)  
  
(“Would you like an umbrella, Oikawa-san,” Kageyama had asked, instead. His apartment was close enough. He could run there and something like rain doesn’t bother him. The rain would even be nice against his hair soaked through with sweat. Kageyama’s skin still feels too tight and hot after his first day with the national team, and standing here with Oikawa under the overhang of the gymnasium where the heavy humid air sits like a weight on his chest, is filled so completely with the closeness of how Oikawa is to him, Oikawa’s own practice sweat and his summer scent hanging in the air, that Kageyama thinks he’s about to wake up at any moment now, 6AM in the morning, the low white ceiling of his bedroom, right on schedule.)  
  
(Oikawa turns to look at him then, his surprise nothing more than the way the skin smooths out between his brows. “What about you, Tobio,” Oikawa asks, and it was the way the rain light glows white on Oikawa’s shoulders, against the line of his mouth, that makes Kageyama realise they’re the same height now.)  
  
  
  
  
It is exactly 7:30AM when Oikawa walks into the kitchen, bare legs and white tshirt and messy brown hair, and it is 7:31AM when Kageyama kisses him roughly on the mouth, putting a cup of coffee in front of him.

 

 


	2. "long time coming" - Future Fic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Kageyama wakes up to the sound of snow falling._
> 
> Future Fic.  
> I CAN'T STOP WRITING ABOUT WINTER ??

These are the three things that Kageyama remembers:  
  
_It always snows on his birthday._  
  
_The wool of his scarf is worn so soft it doesn’t even itch anymore._  
  
_Oikawa’s hands are always warm._  
  
  
  
  
Kageyama wakes up to the sound of snow falling.  
  
He’s not a poet. He’s never been good with words, and Oikawa had laughed at him the first time he had tried to describe it. “It sounds heavy,” Kageyama had said, frowning, as if he was tasting the rightness of the word ‘heavy’ in his mouth. He’s been trying to take the time to think over what he says these days. He’s trying to be better at this. “But not in a bad way.”  
  
Oikawa had just looked at him then, at his wide open face turned toward the window glass of their bedroom, and maybe Kageyama wasn’t that much better at this because Oikawa snaps, “ _You’re_  heavy, Tobio. How about you get off me or lose some weight or something,” like Oikawa wasn’t still taller, still broader through the shoulder, still so impossibly real and solid and warm under Kageyama’s thighs. Oikawa was. Oikawa is. Oikawa doesn’t let go at all. Oikawa’s fingers are curled so tight and cruel into the meat of Kageyama’s thighs that he feels his muscles tense for a fight despite himself.  
  
“What,” Kageyama starts. “Ugh,” Kageyama tries again. “Oikawa-san," Kageyama growls, shifting his weight, but he can’t escape the heat radiating off of Oikawa’s bare skin, and Oikawa just pulls him closer, insistent, singing something soft and nonsense in Kageyama’s ear. It’s not supposed to sting, but something about the sharpness of Oikawa’s tongue on every consonant does anyway.  _Idiot. Brat. Mine._  
  
Fingers are weaving into Kageyama’s hair and tugging. Oikawa is burning too hot for Kageyama like this, and the sky feels so unbearably cold and grey and heavy that Kageyama suffocates under the weight of it. Oikawa’s mouth is wet and hot against his throat. Kageyama says, “Wait,” just as he leans down to kiss Oikawa roughly instead.  
  
It’s only later that he realises Oikawa knew Kageyama was going to leave before even Kageyama knew it himself.  
  
  
  
  
Oikawa takes Kageyama’s blue scarf and wraps it around his face to ward off the cold. It’s Kageyama’s favourite. “Did you want me to freeze to death, Tobio-chan,” Oikawa asks. His words are muffled behind the wool and his smile is, too, but his eyes are narrowed. It’s a challenge. Oikawa is always a challenge. He’s wearing yesterday’s clothes.  
  
“No,” Kageyama starts. “Wait,” Kageyama tries again. “Oikawa-san," Kageyama growls, but Oikawa is already waving him from the other side of the door, and the snow has already started to melt in his hair.

 

 


	3. "you're not sorry" - Gundam AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is probably not the Gundam AU you're looking for. I'm sorry that Kindaichi always dies first in my everything always. 
> 
> Warnings for: space, character death

Oikawa falls to Earth like something beautiful.  
  
“Make a wish, Tobio-chan,” Oikawa had snarled into the comm. Kageyama can feel the thrum of the charge beating through his bones; he can feel the way the whole of space and the stars and the atomic dust that floats between every particle seeps deep into his skin until it’s like he’s sitting right there beside Oikawa, like he can smell the stale air filling Oikawa’s cockpit in this very moment, taste it like bitter and salt on his tongue the way Oikawa must be tasting it, too.   
  
There had been a crack running along the curve of Oikawa’s helmet. Kageyama had put it there when they were planet-side. The first lesson Kageyama had ever learned from Oikawa was to never say you’re sorry.  
  
“Thank you for everything, Oikawa-san,” Kageyama says instead, trying to bow along with his words even in the confines of his cockpit. He has never meant anything more in his entire life.  
  
Kageyama raises his beam rifle. Kageyama takes the shot.  
  
The second lesson Kageyama had ever learned from Oikawa was to never miss.

 

   
  
  
Kageyama doesn’t understand the meaning of gravity.  
  
When he says,  _faster, further, **more**_ , like he’s never known the pull of the Earth at his feet, like he’s never felt the weight of it tight inside his chest, he doesn’t understand why they look at him so resentful and tired. They can be the best together, him and Kindaichi and Kunimi, in their Academy uniforms with the creases fresh-pressed and the starfield so unbounded, so achingly endless.  
  
( _Home_.)  
  
(He could take them there, take them far, if only they would  _listen_.)  
  
It’s the last time they will sortie together, an extended patrol maneuver that takes their mobile suits around a ring of rocky debris near the outer edge; easy in, easy out, but they leave him stranded, out there in the black. His oxygen runs so low he starts to see in stars, and the cold of space leeches into his cockpit, right into his bones. Kageyama has never known betrayal before this, his eyes are still wide and filled with wonder, head lifted up so stubbornly he can’t see what’s right within his reach, and instead that day he learns of a loss that can shake your marrow with chill. He doesn’t know why it hurts like this, can't articulate the drift of his comrades turning their backs, and it’s only later that Oikawa says,  _Friends, you never learned to call them friends, you little idiot._  
  
When he finally meets Kindaichi again in the low grav corridor of the assault carrier, when he tries to work his mouth around this  _feeling_ , it’s already too late, and they never quite make it  _home_  again.  
  
(It’s Oikawa that comes for him, finally.)  
  
(It’s Oikawa that brings him back.)

 

   
  
  
When they set fire to the sky, Kindaichi is the one he meets out there in the burning atmosphere. It’s Kindaichi who falls first, like so much debris from the sky.

   
  
  
  
"Oikawa-san, please teach me how to shoot."  
  
“And why do you think I would do something like that,” Oikawa huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. He thinks about how he feels an entire lifetime’s worth of regret for bringing Kageyama back. He thinks about the way Kageyama won’t stop following him, looking at him like he’s looking at the entirety of the star field itself. He thinks about Kageyama, so eager. He thinks,  _maybe_.  
  
“Because you’re the best,” Kageyama blurts out. Kageyama’s hands are clenched so tightly at his side, Oikawa feels like he’s going to get a headache just from watching. “Because I want to become the best like you.”  
  
“Like me, or better than me, Tobio-chan,” Oikawa smiles. There is nothing soft about his mouth.  
  
“Better, Oikawa-san,” Kageyama replies without hesitation and Oikawa can see the stars there in Kageyama’s eyes again so clearly he wants nothing more than to crush them into particle dust. Dig his fingers around that weightless heart that scares him, just a little.   
  
And so Oikawa says yes.

 

  
  
  
_Space is cold_ , Oikawa thinks. It leeches right into his bones. He feels lightheaded with it, or maybe it was the actual lack of air his normal suit keeps trying to warn him about. The crack in his helmet looks like it’s about to give up.  
  
_I’m sorry, Oikawa-san_ , Kageyama thinks back. He was always too stubborn for his own good. Too dumb to take a hint. Oikawa hopes that maybe a meteorite will strike him right then and there, or that the gravity well will pull him down faster than Kageyama can reach him. Or better yet, that a meteorite will strike both him and Kageyama and be rid of them both.  
  
Oikawa closes his eyes against the field of stars that fill in the entirety of everything he’s ever known,  _unbounded, achingly endless_ , and lets himself drift toward the inevitable. 

 

 


	4. "bad blood" - FHQ AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Kageyama walks across the long hall of a demon king._
> 
> Final Haikyuu Quest AU.  
> Warnings for: sexy cannibalism, blood, mention of character death (SORRY AGAIN KINDAICHI LMAO)
> 
> Demon King Oikawa should be a tag all by itself.

“Isn’t this what you wanted, Tobio-chan,” Oikawa smiles. It’s all teeth. There has never been anything except teeth between them.  
  
“You should have stopped, Oikawa-san,” Kageyama tries. He hasn’t lowered his bow, but he hasn’t readied another silver-tipped arrow, either. The long distance between them in the ruined throne room is criss-crossed by so many thin lines of pale winter sun; the markings of an impossible path of years. “You didn’t have to do those things. Iwaizumi-san, and—”  
  
“But you looked like you were enjoying yourself so much. My dear Iwa-chan was very good, wasn’t he. He was very, very good. Loyal right until the end, when he was not.” Oikawa’s tongue is very red between his white teeth as he speaks, but the blood pouring from the arrow buried deep in his gut is darker. Black gut blood clotting against his hands pressed around the wooden shaft, as if he desperately needed to staunch the life wound. Oikawa is still too human in there somewhere, and suddenly the long distance between them isn’t nearly long enough.  
  
“Come here, Tobio.”  
  
It’s his king’s command this time and Kageyama can’t refuse it. He had learned everything by Oikawa’s side. The magic in Kageyama’s bones was his; the claw marks that scar so prettily down Kageyama’s back that burn at the turning of the year were his, too. And when Oikawa called him to duty by his side, something in Kageyama always wanted to do good. He had made a promise, long ago.  
  
_(“A birthday gift for my darling little Tobio,” Oikawa had said as his teeth bit down into Kageyama’s mouth, his claws slowly dragging red raw lines down the smooth expanse of his back as Kageyama braced his thighs against the way his skin had parted so easily, the way his blood had run so warm. A covenant made.)_  
  
(Kageyama had been so eager for everything. He had wanted to learn everything about the magic that lived inside the fire of Oikawa’s bones.)  
  
(Kageyama might have become too greedy, too.)  
  
Each line of pale winter sun that Kageyama steps over across the floor feels like he’s young again, like he’s walking back through every single regret hidden under the bones of his breast, learned carefully to kill over time.  _He should have saved Kindaichi from those villagers’ wrath._  Another line.  _He should have respected Oikawa’s right to that white-winged paladin._  Another line, another line.  _He should not have tried to pluck the soul magic right from Oikawa heart, he should not have touched the vision magic that lived in Oikawa’s eye._  The winter light is blinding.   
  
“You've come for the rest of it, haven’t you,” Oikawa asks. There’s no smile now, no teeth. His mouth looks almost human again.  
  
“Yes, Oikawa-san,” Kageyama says. He stands before Oikawa, but he doesn’t kneel. The scars on his back burn as he finally draws the last of his silver-tipped arrows. He had made a promise to Iwaizumi, too.

 

 


	5. "better than revenge" - Genderswap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genderswap.  
> Warnings for: genderswap (cisswap), slut shaming, misogyny
> 
> I think there would be such a wide gulf between the girl Oikawa in middle school and the girl Oikawa in high school, before she learned how to properly build her walls and the face she would present to the world. What she views as threats would probably be different, too.

Kageyama never paid attention to rumours.  
  
Everybody said that Oikawa was too pretty, too smart, that she must be up to something. Girls spoke cruelly behind their hands about the various  _ways_  she must have paid to be the top of the class. Boys spoke to each other about what they would like to do to her lean thighs, her round breasts, her full mouth; her full, cutting,  _sharp_ , mouth, that they were too scared to actually ever face in person.  
  
Kageyama just liked to watch Oikawa practice jumps serves after school for hours and hours on end. She loved Oikawa’s lean, muscled thighs that ate up the ground with her long stride. She loved how pretty Oikawa looks filling out the proud blue of her Kitagawa Daiichi uniform. Maybe one day she’ll be like Oikawa in this way, too. And she loved—  
  
“Tobio-chan, stop creeping around. That’s not very cute,” Oikawa snaps. Sweat plasters her usually perfect bangs flat and damp against her forehead; her face is blotchy and red from practice; purple bruises blossom dark and angry along the length of her pale arms. And yet Oikawa glows under the late afternoon light that slants golden across the gymnasium floor, wears all that gold across her strong shoulders as if she was born to it. Kageyama thinks she’s probably the prettiest like this over all other times.  
  
“I’m sorry, Oikawa-san!” Kageyama bows deep from where she had been crouched beside the ball cart. She keeps her bow that way, up until Oikawa sighs noisily and comes over.  
  
“Why are you still here,” Oikawa asks. She doesn’t even know why she’s asking. Kageyama is still in her practice clothes, her eyes are still wide with awe.  
  
“Please teach me how to serve, Oikawa-san!” Kageyama blurts out. She still hasn’t risen from her bow yet, wonders if she should bow deeper.  
  
Oikawa lets out a long, drawn out groan. “You are such a brat. Why are you like this. Why can’t you just be normal and go home with everybody else.”  
  
“Because you’re still here!” Kageyama finally looks up, hopeful. Oikawa is only fifteen but she’s already so, so tall. Kageyama hopes she can be this tall one day, too.  
  
“You know, if you stay late, they’ll just start talking about you, too,” Oikawa says lightly, but there's something sharp and heavy there. She hadn’t made captain in her third year after an ex-boyfriend had started a rumour about her integrity after she had refused his advances. Oikawa accepted dates because she didn’t want trouble, had been fine playing this particular game, but the tide of her reputation had gotten more precarious with each year, as she got prettier and prettier. Iwaizumi had almost gotten kicked off the team for defending her too strongly. Oikawa had felt guilty for the two weeks after, sharing her favourite ice cream with her best friend, and had vowed never to let Iwaizumi step into her battles again.  
  
Oikawa already had enough to deal with, anyway. A naive little underclassman much too talented for her own good, for starters. But when she looks at Kageyama, Kageyama who she had found practicing sets against the outside wall of the gymnasium one evening, the trajectory of her ball so beautiful and natural and pinpoint accurate Oikawa had felt the breath ripped right from her lungs, she couldn’t help but see herself when she was younger, in love with the simple feeling of the ball against her hands and in the air. Volleyball was everything to her; her volleyball team was everything to her, too. Soon Oikawa will learn to navigate the double edges of her body, but until then, this is all she had. This is all she would ever want.   
  
“That’s okay,” Kageyama says. Her mom had packed extra rice balls for her, just in case. Every day, just in case. She wasn’t going to let her chance slip her by. Maybe Oikawa will want to share some with her, too, and Kageyama says as much.   
  
Oikawa just laughs, exasperated, and tugs Kageyama by her pin-straight ponytail back to the court.   
  
Kageyama never paid attention to rumours, except maybe for the ones that mattered most —  _Oikawa’s jump serve is a hurricane, Oikawa is the hardest working girl in her year, Oikawa will bring out the very best in you on the court whether you wanted it or not._  

 

 


End file.
